


Making you shut up- a bit.

by Pernilla_Writes



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, CONSENT BITCH, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, NSFW, Pony Play, Surprisingly, it's not actually the worst thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pernilla_Writes/pseuds/Pernilla_Writes
Summary: Geralt buys a new bridle for Roach, Jaskier sees an opportunity.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 236





	Making you shut up- a bit.

If a year ago someone had told Jaskier that he would find himself with a bit in his mouth and an erection at the same time- he would have believed them. If they had also suggested that the one putting that bit inside his mouth was going to be a tall, muscular and rugged man he would have started counting down the days.

He could feel the inn’s hard wood flooring under his palms and knees, his naked body shivered under the cold, his nipples perked.

Geralt had bought a new bridle for Roach, a really nice and expensive one, the leather strips were black and the bit itself was made out of steel; once back in the room they shared they had started messing around, hands all over each other, but Geralt seemed irked by his constant chatter, more than usual anyway.

“Maybe you should gag me with that new bridle you got.”

Jaskier had just been teasing, but when he felt Geralt’s breath hitch, saw his cat eyes blown wide, he knew he had stumbled upon something interesting.

“You would love that, wouldn’t you?” Jaskier said against the other’s ear, a playful smile on his lips, hands roaming Geralt’s broad chest.

“Fuck.” Geralt moved with inhuman quickness and dug up the bridle from his pack, turning back to face Jaskier with an aroused look in his eyes.

“Get undressed, then on all fours.”

Jaskier let out a breathy laugh and took off his trousers and underpants, his chest already bare like the Witcher’s. He turned on his hands and knees, unashamed and waiting, his erection pressing up against his belly.

Geralt grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged at it, forcing Jaskier to face the ceiling, the cold metal bit was pushed between his lips almost harshly, he could feel the Witcher fussing with the buckles on the back of his head until the leather was snug against him.

He tried talking but his tongue was pinned down, his lips barely able to move, the only thing that could come out of his mouth was a string of unintelligible mumbling.

Geralt crouched down on one knee, the glint in his eyes was more arousing than the feel of the leather digging down his cheeks.

“If it gets too much tap three times on the floor.”

Jaskier’s heart melted, Geralt was always concerned over his strength, especially when they got a bit rougher, and always reminded Jaskier he could say no. It made the bard feel cherished and wanted, loved.

He gave a nod of assent and Geralt walked behind him, taking the leather lead and tugging on it, Jaskier could feel his neck bend, his muscles straining. He knew that would leave a mark.

He couldn't see Geralt, but felt the man’s unoccupied hand on his back, touching and roaming on his skin, lower and lower. Geralt groped his ass, squeezing his cheek and giving it a slap, the sharp sting lasted only a few seconds, but his skin felt on fire.

Next thing he knew he felt Geralt’s teeth on his skin, nibbling lightly, mock-biting the soft flesh underneath. Jaskier felt he could finish from that alone, but then he heard the sound of a bottle being opened.

Geralt let the cold oil drip between the bard’s cheeks, spreading it around shortly after with his warm hand, the other tightened its grip on the bridle and tugged, forcing Jaskier to arch his back.

Geralt started preparing him, one finger at a time, each one making Jaskier squirm, desperate for something more.

As soon as Geralt deemed him ready he took out his fingers and pushed himself in, pulling Jaskier towards himself with the lead while his other hand gripped the bard’s hip so tightly Jaskier knew it would bruise.

Geralt bottomed out on his first thrust, he had prepared Jaskier well but the stretch still burned, and the bard took in a sharp breath; Geralt was big and, no matter how many times or how often they did this, it would always hurt a bit, not that Jaskier minded in the slightest.

When Jaskier felt the sting fade he leaned back into the Witcher’s body, and Geralt took the hint.

Jaskier couldn’t touch himself, his cook felt full and his balls tight, and Geralt was busy with his backside, he had no doubts he would come untouched.

The pace was punishing, relentless, just like his Witcher, demanding and yet never too much, always welcome and gratifying. The bit in his mouth had long since warmed up, Jaskier was drooling and gasping with each movement, the leather held his head tilted upwards, his back arched and tensed under the force of Geralt’s grip.

Geralt slapped his cheek again, harsher yet, and Jaskier moaned out in pleasure. That pain was just what he needed, he came with a muffled shout, his body contracting around Geralt’s cook as the Witcher fucked him through his orgasm.

He felt his legs shake, his feet cramp, the sensations were overwhelming; Then he felt Geralt spill inside of him with a grunt of pleasure, his spent warm and so much-

Jaskier was panting by the end of it, he felt Geralt pull out, moving in front of him and unbuckling the bridle from around his head, the leather had stuck to his face and had to be peeled off. Geralt carefully took out the bit from his mouth, more drool spilling from his lips.

“So-” started Jaskier, his voice a bit rough “you liked that?”

Geralt looked down at Jaskier, anyone who didn’t know him wouldn't have noticed his eyes, pupils still blown, his nose sniffing the air subtly, the small tilt to his lips.

“It was good. Got you to shut up for a… bit.”

Jaskier laughed at the joke while Geralt helped him up his feet, his jaw ached and his legs still felt like jelly, but he walked over to the mirror by himself.

Twin red lines ran across his wet cheeks -he must have teared up at some point- and his hair was a mess, he could see the corners of his mouth were chapped, his chin shiny with drool; He turned around and looked down at his ass, that too was red, a bruise already forming on his hip, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s come sliding stickily down his thighs.

He smiled and turned towards Geralt.

“You’re going to have to buy Roach a new bridle, I want to keep that one myself.”

Geralt didn't argue.

**Author's Note:**

> For more stuff like this and other witcher-related writing exclusive to my twitter follow me @PernillaWrites (again, Twitter is where you find horny writy me. I also take suggestions so gimme ideas,)
> 
> Thank you to @SuperMuuhCow on twitter for this concept. <3


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